Los Angeles daily herald., 1887-04-17

armyard Of Maitte Chiquet. He "un.
hung himself" as they used to say IN or
| der to describe the manner in which ne
| let himself tumble down from between
his high crutches by letting them slip mp
| through his arms. And he lay there
long time motionless, tortured by hum
| ger, but too much stupetied to really
appreciate his fathomless misery.
He was waiting for something, he
knew not what, with that vague hope
which constantly persists in each and
all of rs. He waited there, at the cor
| ner Of that farmyard for that mysteri.
! ous aid we are always expecting to re-
ceive either from heaven or from men,
without asking how, or why. or by
whom it is to come. A troop OF black
chickens came by, seeking their nour-
ishment in that earth which nourishes
all creatures. At every second, they
pecked at grain lor seme invisible in
sect, and continued their slow sure
search.
Cloche looked at them without think
| ing of anything; then he got.-rather
| into his stomach than into his head
the idea, or rather the sensation, that
one Of those things would be good to
eat roasted over hrush-wood fire.
No suspicion ever he was about to
commit q theft that once occurred to
him. He siezed a stone in reach OF his
hand; and as he was Q skilled thrower,
he killed at once the nearest chicken.
The rest ran away, swaying on their
thin legs. and Cloche, climbing up on
his crutches, again began to hobble At
ter his game, with motions precisely
like those of the chickens.
| But just as he came mp to where the
little black body lay, with its head all
bloodstained, he received terrible
shove in the back which obliged him to
| let 20 his crutches, aud which sent him
rolling on his face ten yards away. And
Maitre Chiquet, thoroughly exasperated,
rushed on the marauder. beat him furi.
ously, striking like madman,-as
robbed peasant always strikes, ,-thump.
ing with fist and knees all the body of the
cripple, who was utterly powerless to
defend himself.
The field hands ran, and took turn
in helping the master to beat the beg.
gar, Then, when they had all beaten
and kicked him until they were tired,
they lifted him up and carried him to the
woodhouse, and locked him up there;
and sent for the police.
| Cloche, bleeding and half dead with
hunger, remained upon the ground.
Evening then came, then night, then
morning. All this time he had not had
anything to eat.
| About noon, the police came, and
Il opened the door of the woodhouse with
all possible precaution; for they ex.
pected resistance, as Maitre Chiquet had
told them the beg gar had made aviolent
attack upon him, and that he had only
been able to defend himself with ex-
treme difficulty.
One of the gendarmes cried OUT
Here, you!-get out of that!"
But Clo,he could not lmove himself
He tried to hoist his body once more OF
his stilts and failed. They thought il
was all feint, a trick one of the regu
lar lodges practiced by thieves; and thu
two armed men, seizipg him violently
lifted him upon his crutches by mali
force.
His old fear had come upon him-tht
hereditary fear OF the policeman's vel
,, low sword.belt,-like the fear of th,
! game in the presence of the hunter. th
natural fear of the mouse before the cat
And by superhuman effort he managet
! to remain erect.
-"March!" shouted the officer. Ant
he hobbled along. All the farm peopl
assembled to watch himl going. Th
! ! women shook their fists at him; the mel
: jeered and swore at him. He wa
caught at last anyhow. Good riddance
II And hc passed away between his tw
captors. He found desperate energ
enough to keep so dragging himsel
along until evening,--being too stupe
fed even 10 know what had happened t
him,--too terrified to understand any
!. thing.
People passing on the road stopped t,
/. look at him go by; and the peasant
! muttered:
-"Must be some robber."
Toward night they arrived at the Chef
lieu of the canton He had never beer
, that far before. He really had no ide
!, what had happened, nor what was goinl
to happen. All these terrible and unex
pected things, new houses, strange faces
absolutely terrified him out of his wits
He never uttered single wood-hav-
) ing nothing, indeed, to say; for he hat
; ceased to be able to understand any thing
!. Besides, during ell the years that he hat
! never talked with any one. he had grad
ually lost the use of his tongue through
want of habit, and whatever thoughts b
had left would have been of too confuset
q sort to be expressed in words.
He was locked up in the village jail
1t never occurred tc the policemen that
! he might need something to eat; ant
they left him there until next day.
But they found him lying dead on thu
floor, when they went to question hin
early in the morning. How surprised
they were!
Guy DE MAUPAssANT.